Kill Shot

by Amber Malloy

  “Clueless and overly excited,” she whispered, inches away from his lips.

  “More an ‘I’m glad to be nominated’ trope with a sprinkle of disingenuous.”

  Ashe’s laughter marginally lightened the heaviness that settled in his chest.

  “If anything goes wrong—”

  “I’ll find you,” she assured him, even though something in her tone rang false. Ashe rose on the balls of her feet to softly peck his lips. “Don’t want to smear my gloss.”

  Determined to get more, he bent his head and went for the delicate skin on her neck. Walker breathed in her hypnotic scent. Pressing a kiss to the base of her throat, he fought the urge to snatch her up and run. “Promise me you’ll be careful,” he whispered in her ear, tightening his hold on her waist.

  “I’ll do the best I can, sweetheart.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Ashe slipped through the sophisticated crowd. Static from her earpiece rang in her head. While she adjusted the device, she grabbed a flute of wine from a server’s tray.

  “Can you hear me?” a J8 agent asked. She kept her eyes peeled for Fredrick Snell or anyone who appeared slightly familiar from Sierra Leone.

  “Loud and clear,” she mumbled into the rim of her glass before she took a sip.

  “Eden and Lola are on a different channel. If you tap the ruby in the middle of your earring you should be able to communicate with them.”

  Lawmakers, businessmen and philanthropists topped the guest list for the night’s events. Every year the international community came together to hobnob and work out the problems of the world in one stuffy, expensive evening.

  Ashe threw back the rest of her drink then placed the empty glass on another waiter’s tray. Apparently, J8 wanted to spook her kidnapper. The men who’d tortured her were diabolical and considered her a loose end.

  With no particular route in mind, she headed to the mummy exhibit. Small stair-step lights led her down the narrow staircase.

  Bigwigs mingled with local celebrities. Ashe, on the other hand, was seeking out a psycho. She stopped on the floor that showcased the mummy tombs and studied each attendant’s face.

  She stepped out of the way to get a better view of the elevator and stairs. Feeling exposed, she pretended to read the placard about the artifacts, bowls, jewelry and bats. She hated bats.

  When Ashe looked up, she caught sight of a man tightly grasping a woman by the elbow. The body language seemed off. She reached for her earring to clue the agents in to the odd pair but quickly changed her mind. Instead, she decided to shadow them from a distance.

  They hurried through the halls at a fast clip. Ashe made her way around the sarcophagus decorated with priceless gold and jewels.

  A soft whine slipped from the woman, who stumbled to keep up. Everything about her sent tingles down Ashe’s spine.

  “Please,” the dark-haired woman pleaded. Once she turned her head, Ashe got a perfect sideview of her face. “I promise—”

  A wave of people separated her from the couple. She couldn’t let them get much farther. She shoved a server into the pair. Glass crashed against the floor. While everyone became too distracted by the mess of spilled wine and broken shards, she snatched the woman’s hand and took off.

  * * * *

  The Field Museum had rolled out a red-carpet welcome for the news outlets. J8’s surveillance truck blended in with CNN, E! Entertainment and Fox News vehicles. Walker opened the back door and stepped into a techie’s wet dream.

  “Any sign of Snell?” he asked.

  “Not yet.” Agents sat in front of monitors. They typed away on laptops, sporadically keeping an eye on the security cameras inside the museum.

  Vann handed him a cup of coffee, a reminder that they were in for a long night.

  “What’s the point of this again?” He scanned the screens but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. “We both know it will be damn near impossible to connect Snell to any of this.”

  “Maybe,” Vann said before he stepped beside him. “But Aims here did more digging.”

  Lola’s nephew raised his hand to salute him before he went back to typing away on the keyboard. “Snell’s cousin recruited Ashe to Poplin and Hayes law firm. He’s a headhunter.”

  “That means Snell has been keeping tabs on her ever since her rescue? That doesn’t make sense.” Walker caught a glimpse of Ashe on one of the screens. His heart melted at the sight of her.

  “Remember, she was tortured but never raped,” Vann said.

  Often he found himself pushing the more vicious details of her case to the back of his mind. If he didn’t, intense rage would consume him.

  “Eden thinks that the mystery man Ashe was promised to still wants her.”

  “We both know it was Snell.”

  “Perhaps. From what we dug up, Snell had a hand in human trafficking. Back then, he could have sold her to the highest bidder.”

  “Doesn’t fit. She’s of age now. There’s no reason to keep tabs on her.” Ashe squinted her eyes at something in the museum. Walker noticed her focus change right away. “Can you take camera three? She recognizes that woman.”

  One of the agents pulled up the camera on the opposite wall and zoomed in on the couple.

  “Talk to me, Ashe,” an agent spoke to her through the intercom.

  “She’s not answering. Aims, check her earpiece to see if it’s working,” Walker requested. “Do a test on the other agents as well.”

  The majority of the guests lingered in the main entrance with the mighty Titanosaur Patagotitan Mayorum. Ashe had veered away from the main floor. He scanned the top monitors to see if Eden could intercept her.

  “I found Snell,” one of the techs announced. He took a red laser and pointed the light at the screen in the far right. Mere seconds later, the spies converged on the businessman from opposite directions. They moved swiftly through the sea of well-dressed guests. However, a good distance stood between the targets and the spies.

  Aims tried to get Ashe on her earpiece but received no answer.

  Walker bounced his attention between at least five cameras in the museum. “Metal detectors?”

  “Yep, there’s security at every entrance.”

  On the bottom right screen, his wife kept a steady pace with the people she was following.

  “Eden, there’s a commotion by the—” A scuffle broke out near Snell’s small group. Three gunshots went off. Everyone on the main floor hit the ground.

  As Walker refocused his attention back to Ashe’s monitor, a waiter fell to the ground close to Ashe.

  “Shit,” he hissed. She grabbed the woman by the arm and ran.

  “What’s going on?” Vann bent down to see the screen. “Who is that woman?”

  “Ashe’s law partner, C.T.” Walker reached into his tux jacket for his gun. Once he’d checked the safety, he put it back into his holster. “Apparently she’s back from the dead,” he said on his way out of the truck’s door.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Ashe dragged C.T. behind her. She couldn’t seem to keep up.

  “Marcille,” she moaned.

  Tackling the museum’s twists and turns, Ashe searched for an exit. “Where have you been?”

  “H-he took me and—” The next turn yielded a dark stairwell tucked behind the mummy exhibit. “Urgh.” C.T. grabbed her side with a moan.

  “Come on.” Ashe had to practically drag her.

  Heavy footsteps fell at a fast rate behind them. With very few options, she pulled the red velvet rope blocking their path to the side.

  As they stepped onto the dark floor, she tugged C.T. toward the elevator at the end of the hall. “Can we take a second? I just need to—” C.T. collapsed on the ground.

  Positive that they wouldn’t make it to the end of the hall, Ashe pulled C.T. behind a samurai display.

  “What the hell happened to you?” Blood seeped through the fabric of C.T.’s gown. “Shit,” Ashe hissed. She ripped the slit up
to the abdomen of her dress and examined the blood-soaked bandage that covered her former partner’s stomach.

  “I was supposed to bring you to— Owww!” Pale—probably from the loss of blood—C.T. leaned against the pillar, grabbing her side with a groan.

  “Who told you to watch me?”

  “Bergen.” She gasped in pain. “He told me to keep an eye on you. He didn’t think you were qualified.”

  Ashe let out a dry laugh before ripping a piece off her own dress. “Did you even bother to check if that was true?” She wrapped the delicate silk cloth around C.T.’s waist.

  “He’s senior partner of the firm. Why would he lie?” When she tied off the cloth, C.T. sucked in a ragged breath.

  “If you weren’t fucking the boss, you might have figured it out.” Her ex-partner at least had enough sense to glance away. Ashe no longer cared about her feelings. For the past few months, she’d had to run for her life. Unfortunately, C.T. held a fraction of the blame.

  “But I wasn’t sleeping with him. None of this is what you think.”

  “Come on.” Ashe pulled her arm but couldn’t get a good grip. While she tried again, C.T. stared at something over her head. Following her instinct, she dropped to the ground and rolled. The man who’d chased them swung but missed her by a hair. Instead, he shattered the samurai display case with his fist.

  As glass rained down on top of them, Ashe kicked him in the gut. Popping onto the balls of her feet, she took another swipe. This time she connected with his jaw. He stumbled back and reached into his tux jacket, pulling out a gun.

  “Don’t make me shoot you.” A soft whimper from C.T. interrupted the silence of the closed-off museum floor. “Grab her and let’s go.”

  Flexing her fist, she suppressed the crazy adrenaline that coursed through her veins.

  “Careful,” he warned. Ashe nodded and took a step toward her partner. “My trigger finger is very itchy right now.”

  * * * *

  The museum’s main floor exploded into chaos. Walker slipped through the unmanned entrance, heading through the thick of the crowd, ready to apprehend Snell for questioning. A more justifiable solution than putting a bullet into the monster’s head.

  A mash of fancy clothing and frenzy ran amok over the museum. Walker glanced at the chaos and considered jumping into the fray.

  “Ashe is on the next floor below,” a techie spouted off into his earpiece. He took a sharp left and headed for the stairs.

  “Shots fired on the main floor. Shots fired!” someone yelled.

  Worried about Ashe, Walker couldn’t lose focus. If they didn’t get Snell this time, maybe they never would. If he had to shoot Snell in the head, Walker could live with that.

  Hitting the landing on the next floor, he turned right.

  “Snell is on the move,” one of the techies announced.

  Instantly dipped into darkness, he stepped gently onto the museum tile, so as not to alert anyone of his whereabouts.

  The ding of the elevator bell drew his attention down the hall. A man holding a gun on Ashe shoved her into the cab.

  Walker took off. Afraid he wouldn’t reach them in time, he fired off a shot at the man’s back before he slammed into the closing doors.

  “Lola’s been hit. Repeat, Lola’s been hit,” he heard.

  “Got her,” Eden panted over his earpiece. “I need medics to meet me around back.”

  “Fuck!” He slammed his fist against the stainless-steel cab. “Where’s he taking Ashe, up or down?”

  “Shots fired,” a different techie repeated those haunting words again. Their whole mission had officially gone to shit. Walker could only guess what had happened. He jogged in place on the landing, waiting for a reply.

  “Garage, bottom floor,” someone finally answered.

  He tackled the steps nearly two at a time. “Have a crew meet me outside,” Walker barked out his order. He hit the last floor running before he busted out of the museum door.

  As a BMW convertible came to a screeching halt, headlights splashed against the wall behind him. Vann hopped out. Walker nearly knocked him over to get into the driver’s seat. “Eden’s got a lock on Snell. Whoever’s got Ashe is probably taking her to the same place.”

  Walker reversed out of the dock area in search of his wife.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The maniac drove down Lakeshore Drive at breakneck speed.

  Ashe tried to figure out where they were by the city landmarks, but they flew past. She noted the bulletproof, reinforced doors and the darkly tinted SUV windows that hid her from outside view.

  Luckily, one of the techies had crafted her a 3D-printed machete, easy to sneak past the metal detectors to potentially maim a suspect. To assure herself of its existence, she pushed back into her seat to feel its outline underneath her dress.

  “We had a plan, baby.” Her assailant reached out to touch C.T.’s face. “Why didn’t you follow the plan?” Huddled near the door, her not-dead ex-partner cried harder. “All you had to do was give her up and we would be free and clear of this mess.”

  Ashe tried her best to follow their stilted conversation. The man seemed to genuinely care for C.T.

  “Ashe, don’t say anything. I just wanted you to know back-up is on the way,” Lola’s nephew, Aims, relayed in her earpiece. Surprised that the device continued to work so far away from the museum, she took comfort from the fact that they were still in contact.

  “She doesn’t know anything. What was I supposed to do?” C.T. whined.

  “Who cares?” he replied. “She’s not our problem.” The driver maneuvered the car around a ramp without hitting his brakes. Ashe quickly studied him under the flash of street lights. His crooked nose and protruding forehead made him appear old-timey, street-brawler scary.

  “We can keep Ashe with us. Just keep driving… Please.”

  “Are you kidding me? Once we give her up, we’re clear of this whole mess.”

  “But—” C.T. said.

  He jerked the wheel again, careening them into a dark alley. Eerily quiet, they drove behind posh Northside homes before he stopped the truck.

  “Get out,” he told Ashe before he unlocked the doors.

  “What? Here?”

  The man jumped out of the truck and yanked open her door. “I said get out!”

  C.T. clung to the side of the car and whimpered. “I’m sorry,” she cried. “I’m so sorry, Ashe.”

  He snatched her out by her forearm and nodded at the dilapidated church in front of them. “In there.”

  “But what about—” Slamming the passenger door shut, he jumped back into the driver’s seat.

  “No,” C.T. cried. “We can’t just leave her here.”

  A different goon stepped from the shadows. “Let’s go.” Tapping the gun at his side, he nodded toward the looming building. “You don’t want to keep him waiting.”

  She detected a slight accent—South African perhaps. Ashe couldn’t honestly tell. He didn’t say anything else.

  With three-inch heels and nowhere to run, she reluctantly accompanied the gun-toting man into the church.

  * * * *

  Walker watched the GPS dot of the car that Ashe traveled in stop. “Is that a church?” he asked.

  “St. Augustine,” one of the techies replied back. “It’s been abandoned for years.”

  “A drop-off point or final showdown?” Walker asked.

  “We have a GPS on Eden. She’s already inside,” the techie told him.

  “Shit!” With no foreseeable end to this—at least not a good one—Walker punched the wheel with his fist.

  “Take the next right and park.” Following directions, he entered the alley. Walker stopped the car a good two blocks away from the building. “We’ve got back-up on the way. Keep in mind there’s a hole in the top of the church.”

  What the hell is that supposed to mean? The tech didn’t stop long enough for Walker to get a word in.

  “There’re two guards s
tationed behind the church—one near the beheaded statue of Mary and the other one is under the awning. Eden already took care of everyone out front. And, Walker?”

  “Yeah, man?”

  “Good luck.”

  His ear device went silent. From experience he knew there would be no further communication. Officially alone, he got out of the car, determined to save the woman he loved.

  * * * *

  Moonlight shone through the busted stained-glass windows. It helped guide her into the chapel. Dank and dusty, the abandoned location must have held some sort of meaning.

  As the guard trailed close behind Ashe, she covered her mouth with her hand. Snell’s attempt at intimidation meant very little to Ashe after having spent two years in the jungle, beaten and whipped.

  “Ms. Marcille!” The boom of Fredrick Snell’s voice caused dozens of birds to scatter. “Please excuse the theatrics.” He stepped into view with a chuckle.

  The man appeared well past middle-aged. His money must have kept him in tip-top shape. With a nice head of hair and no flab, he seemed semi-attractive. Of course, the embedded evil that coursed through his veins deducted points from his overall score.

  “This place holds sentimental value for me. You see, this is where your parents and I first met,” he told her.

  “And to think…you didn’t ignite into flames once you walked in?”

  “Beauty and brains accompanied by a wicked sense of humor… You would have made some lucky fella an exceptional wife.”

  “Anyone in particular or just the highest bidder?”

  Snell gave off another empty laugh. “In due time, my dear. I couldn’t possibly show you my entire hand.” He snapped his fingers in the air.

  Two guards dragged a limp man into the church. At first glance, he appeared dead. A brittle groan told her he still had a smidge of life left in him.

  “Nooo.” C.T. sobbed as yet another guard pulled her by her arm into the chapel.

  “This idiot was hired to watch you. Of course, she didn’t have the prestigious credentials to get into the law firm on her own merits, soooo…”